


bad dreams

by sutera



Category: The Last Remnant
Genre: Alternate Reality, Angst, M/M, One Shot, Wtf did I just write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 22:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3427298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sutera/pseuds/sutera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He hopes the bad stuff never happened. Then he begins to think that maybe it did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bad dreams

When Rush wakes up one morning, he thinks he’s awoken from a bad dream. He looks to the right, and the covers are bare beside him. Thoughts filter in slowly.

And then, he knows everything.

He knows how to perform the most brutal of melee moves, he knows how to concoct a complicated formula that excels in both conflicting and severely hurting the enemy, he knows how to bring someone back to life without breaking the sweat that he normally does. He knows the many ways to wield a sword, a spear, an axe. He knows how to bash his enemies in the face the right way to make them collapse immediately.

He sits up, and he recalls the many times he’s been in this position, the many times he _hasn’t_ been in this position. He remembers waking up to fire or rain, or perhaps the soft breathing of a partner—blond, tanned, _gorgeous_ —beside him and when he looks to the right again, he almost expects a tuft of blonde hair to greet him, poking innocently out from under the covers (because he thinks he hears Dave’s voice, telling him croakily in the midst of night how his mother had told him that she will be there always to tuck him in, and Rush imagines himself assuring Dave that he’ll stay for as long as Dave wants him to); he’s certain, for a moment, that he is under another illusion, that there is a hex upon him that he cannot shake, showing him a peaceful life whereas his real form lies in despair. But then he shakes himself, and finds that he is still here, still breathing, warmth spilling onto his arm lazily from the window.

 _In another life_.

He thinks. He _knows_.

He begins to get up, and wonders how to plan his day. Perhaps Rhagoh will be there along with Nora and Khrynia—or maybe it’ll be Robert, with Paris and Haruko—and they’ll greet him with various words, telling him that the guild has recently released a new task for them to snatch and complete. Or they may tell him that it’ll be another boring day, and he’ll find Irina instead and play a few games with her before taking a walk with Dave. Or maybe this time, there’ll be no one there waiting for him, and he’ll be staring at an empty table, wishing he could have accepted Dave’s offer with the weight of his sister’s demise upon his shoulders.

He hopes the bad stuff never happened. Then he begins to think that maybe it did.

It’s just, no one else remembers but him right now.

Or always. Always and always. He’ll get up one morning, and find a crushing despair waiting for him despite Irina calling to him. He’ll get up another morning, and see that he is still safe in Eulam, his peaceful life uninterrupted (while such _war_ rages on in the other lands). He’ll get up once more, and find himself alone, exiled, hated by everyone for being the last Remnant, knowing that he has failed to protect everyone he loves.

He sometimes wonders how it had gotten to that.

But then he remembers that he’s only received this knowledge just a few minutes ago. He hasn’t had enough time to wonder, but he has _before_. He has, and he can recall those thoughts.

He can also recall talks with Dave: talks that doesn’t happen sometimes, talks that are interrupted halfway through; talks that are never _considered_ because Dave has been with someone else while he looks on with a whimsical, painful gaze.

He thinks he gets lucky whenever he _does_ wake up with Dave by his side.

Though, even as he sifts through this knowledge, this _foreboding_ , he finds one thing in common.

There’s always an enemy, dependent on his situation. The Conqueror, Wagram. Marion Marshall, Marina. The Third Committee. Dave and that girl he doesn’t know the name of. Rush himself.

Always, they’re defeated. Always, the world goes on.

Always, Rush dies.

He thinks it’s a little cruel to know that he dies beforehand. He thinks it’s even crueller to give him this kind of knowledge a month before his nineteenth birthday. A week before he meets his end.

But then, he knows with clarity every single decision that he will make leading up to that moment. He knows that he’ll die, and he’ll step into such a fate willingly. He knows it’ll save his friends and family, and that is all that matters.

He’ll die with a smile upon his face.

In another life, far away, he wakes up one morning. He finds he knows everything, and he turns to the right, sees Dave curled in the sheets with Rush’s hand upon his bare chest. He inches closer, eyes shuttering, and he convinces himself it’s a bad dream.

Just a bad dream.

**Author's Note:**

> so this idea basically sidetracked me when i was writing a thing for Lety omg kljsaf. idk what i just wrote but i hope you enjoyed? ?? ?? ???? reading????? ?????? it's basically rush being super omniscient wheezes and then fate being an asshole u___u


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